


A Picture Worth Many Words

by MasKaiHilFantic



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 06:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11225580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasKaiHilFantic/pseuds/MasKaiHilFantic
Summary: A certain piece looses and mayhem is the result of it - messes, shouting, pictures! Read and find out.





	A Picture Worth Many Words

“Ugh! Where is it?!” A very raspy voice cried out as he continued to rummage around the room, distorting everything in his way – clothes were on the floor, shoes thrown here and there, books spread opened over tables, closets and lockers opened, windows opened which let the cold win in. In short the whole room was a big mighty mess. And while he continued to further give it an ugly makeover, he continued reading the newspaper, glancing at it as if it was none of his business.

“Where in the hell did I put it?!” The rasping Texan voice questioned the man reading the paper.

“It must be here, Shawn.” A low voice replied.

“That’s the thing, it isn’t here!” Shawn replied pointing towards the man clad in all black. Releasing a deep sigh, the taller man got up and adjusted his hat before he casually looked around the room, randomly picking up books and looking under it, opening up lockers and searching them.

“Hmm, I can’t find it here. You sure you didn’t leave it at home?” He asked Shawn, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“You’re really a dead-man, Taker – because you don’t seem to have a brain!” Shawn shot back at the taller male.

“Oh boy…” Undertaker sighed.

“It’s the fifth time this week I lost it! If I show up back home without it, my wife will kill me!” Shawn Michaels groaned out while still searching for the missing thing.

“Why would you even bring that antique Spanish cross to work?” Undertaker queried the anxious Michaels who promptly turned to him.

“Because!” Michaels began, “My wife gave it to me when she bought it from the auction a few weeks ago. And she bought it especially for me and I promised her not to lose it ‘cause of course, it was so sweet of her. AND I’VE LOST IT FOR THE FIFTH TIME THIS WEEK!” He finished, clenching his teeth and balling his fists up while he cursed himself. Taker rolled his eyes upwards.

“Who in the heck would even bring an antique cross to work?” He reiterated, again Shawn shot a confused look at Taker.

“You really are naïve for being 52.” He muttered at the taller male.

“Try searching for it with a metal detector.” Undertaker couldn’t help now but to jest before chuckling gently at the end. For him the entire situation was no less than cockamamie. He was spending a quiet afternoon enjoying the newspaper and a cup of coffee when Shawn Michaels came in barging into their shared locker-room and starting frantically tossing clothes and things out of the lockers, as if he was looking or something. And sure enough, Taker had realized that the only thing Shawn could lose was his cross.

“You’re not helping, Mark…” Shawn groaned, using Taker’s real name for stress.

“Alright, alright.” He stopped, still giggling.

“What the hell is all the commotion about?” They picked up another voice, which was much louder as Triple H walked from the bathroom in his underwear.

“Eeh! Hunter! Put on some pants man!” The ever so descent Shawn Michaels squealed and covered his face at the sight of a muscular Triple H in tighty-whities.

“You lost your cross again, didn’t you?” Triple H, crossing his arms around his chest and sighing deeply.

“Yes…. I did!” Michaels cried melodramatically before collapsing on the floor and burying his face in his palms, “Oh I’m such an awful husband!” He cursed himself.

“Jesus Christ…” Undertaker muttered under his breath while Triple H couldn’t help but to crouch down near his friend.

“Aww, you’re not that bad. I’m sure you’ll find it before long.” He consulted Michaels while rubbing his hand over his shoulder.

“I will?” Shawn asked, with a slight hint of hope in his voice.

“Mmmhmm.” Triple H nodded sweetly back as Shawn wiped his tears off.

“Sheesh. Would you ladies cut it out?” Undertaker hissed, rolling his eyes again.

“Taker! Go help Shawn find his cross!” Triple H told him in a very assertive and demanding voice.

“Nuh-uh. You do it, in your underwear. I ain’t gonna be embarrassed no more.” Taker quickly pulled himself out from the picture.

“Have you tried searching your bags, Shawn?” Hunter asked softly.

“Well I’ve searched mine like a billion times, still no luck.” Shawn replied, “And I didn’t search yours or Taker’s bags because you two might find it offensive.” He finished fiddling his fingers.

“Awww.” Triple H couldn’t help but to awe at his cuteness and innocence.

“Jesus, where is that innocence when you’re asking for beer money?” Undertaker once again attacked coldly whilst sighing.

“Mark! Don’t be such a prick!” Triple H retorted.

“Oh, blow me.” Taker snorted back.  
Shifting his attention towards Michaels, Triple H said, “If it comforts you, you can check my bags if you want to.” Michaels’ eyes gleamed with hope.

“Jee, thanks man.” Michaels replied, heavy-hearted.

“Hmm.” Hunter nodded back before he personally handed him his bag. “It’s at your disposal, Shawn – search wherever you want to.”

Sighing, Shawn began fiddling through the bag to search for his antique Spanish cross while Undertaker continued to look at the scene. Michaels found clothes, socks, a few books but not his cross. He checked the smaller drawers; found Hunter’s passport, IDs, cards, phone numbers, a topless photo of Nikki Bella?

“What the hell?” Michaels shot a confused face at him with a hint of irritation and a ton of surprise,.

“Oh jee Shawn, I – I umm I… I… I can explain, I ….! Oh God…” Hunter stammered as he couldn’t help but to blush at Michaels’ finding. Maybe Michaels had dug a little too deep in search of his cross. It was understandable that being one of the older and wiser guys, they had to drop down a bit to the new generation so that they would listen to them but this was too much.

Nonetheless, Hunter was obviously overwhelmed and flustered by the entire situation whilst Undertaker couldn’t help but to snicker at Hunter’s embarrassment.

“Never mind, we’ll take about this over lunch.” Michaels said while he shook the picture at Hunter.

“I can explain! This isn’t her body!” Hunter blurted out, causing Michaels to cock an eyebrow at the otherwise inquisitive admittance.  
“That isn’t her body – I Photoshopped her face on some chick’s body.”

And that silly and utterly phony rationalization would break the cold-hearted Phenom into an uncontrollable wholehearted laughter.

The two shifted attention towards the eldest male as he laughed so openly for the first time, one could even pin the laughter to be hysterical. The two men broke a sweat at this unexpected and even unorthodox display from the usual quite Undertaker.

“Well I searched your bag but couldn’t find my cross.” Shawn said as he finished looking though Hunter’s bag as Taker finally got a hold of himself.  
“Well that leaves…” Hunter murmured as his eyes rested on the other black bag on the couch,

“Taker’s bag.” He finished, with revenge in his tone.

“Hell… no…” Taker replied in a low, threatening voice.

“Obviously!” Triple H said as he snapped his fingers at the elder male’s face.

“You were the calmest of all of us. You must be hiding something!” Triple H accused assertively.

“Get real, idiot.” Taker immediately shut the blame door, “I ain’t got no time to search Michaels’ bag and look for his stupid cross.”

“Ah ha!” Michaels pointed out, “So it was you!”  
“Oh boy…” Taker rolled his eyes at this childish blame game and before he knew it the two agitated males dug into his bag.

“Hey!” Undertaker snarled at the two while they continue to search his bag.  
“It’s gotta be there!” Triple H said as he continued to ram his hands into each and every pocket in the bag while Shawn looking into every book every shirt and every pair of pants the bag had.  
“Guys, I told you it’s not in there!” Undertaker repeated in an angrier voice.

“It’ll be here – Ah!” Triple H snapped out as he shivered while he pointed at Shawn’s back.

“What? What is it?” He asked.

“Shawn…. COCKROACH!”

“Ahh!” Shawn shrieked as he jumped up and saw this huge cockroach on his back.

“Ah! Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!” Shawn cried like a little girl as he jumped around while trying to reach his back.  
“Shawn! Stop jumping!” Hunter screeched at Shawn while he tried to get the cockroach off of his back. The Undertaker broke a sweat as he slowly backed off again; he was too old, too wise and too tired to be part of this sideshow.

“Get the freaking thing off of me!” Michaels snarled as he continued to jump before somehow his shirt lifted a bit which allowed the insect to go under it and be in complete contact with his skin,

His sensitive and ticklish skin…

Michaels soon felt its prickly legs touch his belly, he began letting out giggles.

“Shawn, Shawn what’s wrong?” Hunter asked seeing his friend laugh impulsively.

“Ahhh!” Michaels let out a girly scream, halting the trail of giggles before he began jumping up and down again with his arms going all over his torso as if he was trying to get something out. The witty Triple H made of the situation and immediately began struggling taking off Shawn’s shirt.

“He – Hey!” Shawn protested whilst he continued to jump around as Hunter tried taking his shirt off.

“Shawn – stand still for fuck’s sake!” Hunter grunted at him while taking his shirt off.

“I told you to take it off!” He continued, “No!” Michaels protested before though some magical means, the cockroach made its way into his pants.

“GODDAMN IT!” Michaels swore as he felt the cockroach crawl and creep through his pants, and as predicted Hunter began pulling Michaels’ pants down.

“STOP IT! I’M NAKED INSIDE!” Michaels wailed as he continued to jump.

“WE’RE ALL NAKED FROM THE INSIDE!” Hunter screamed back at the agitated male.

“Maybe he wants a hand job, Shawn.” The ever so cold and calculating Undertaker shot caustically at the pair.

“SHUT UP!” He got a very sharp reply from both males, before he raised his eyebrows at the two.

“Shawn! Calm the FUCK down!” Hunter cried for the umpteenth time.

“I can’t! Ah!” Michaels squealed again before he jumped around, suddenly the door opened and a familiar face peeked in.

“Are you guys okay?”

“Get out if you know what’s best for you, John.” Undertaker slowly muttered whilst crossing his arms who happened to stand near the doorway, a distance just safe enough form the commotion and mayhem caused by the two men.

“What’s going on?” John Cena asked as he entered in and within the heat of the moment and the whirling derby situation, Shawn employed a rather unconventional and painful method of getting rid of the cockroach in his pants – kicking John Cena’s.

With a swift motion, Shawn’s left leg stretched out more than enough that his foot crashed into Cena’s face with such force that he was instantly knocked out cold. Fortunately, the cockroach did manage to get out of Shawn’s pants because of the kick. So all was not lost, yet.

“Uh… John?” Shawn cautiously approached the out-cold John Cena as he felt his nerves to see if he was still alive. The kick wasn’t enough to do the nasty job, so Cena was alive and breathing, barely.

“Shawn!” Triple H said as he pointed at his pants.

“Oh, what now?” Shawn groaned out, at this point he was even prepared for rattlesnake to slither up and bite his butt.

“Look! Your cross! It’s on a chain!” Hunter pointed at the back of his pants. Shawn fumbled around the back and he definitely felt something familiar and antique. He gave the chain a thug before it came loose and Shawn examined what was in his hand. And there it was, his antique Spanish cross was playfully resting in his hands. Shawn Michaels couldn’t help but to gaze up towards the heavens at what had just transpired for this little cross.

It was truly a case of "Child is in the armpit, chaos in the city.“

"Phew!” He sighed out before he stepped over Cena’s still out-cold body.  
“He’s gonna wake up soon, right?” He queried while precariously pointing at the male lying spread-eagle.

“Oh yeah, he’ll be awake in no time. But we’ve got to celebrate this!” The ever so ready Triple H assured before suggesting a party for this lively moment.

“Hehe yeah.” Shawn chuckled out before Hunter stepped over Cena ans walked towards the door, as the two male were about to leave the room.

“Ah-hem!”

They heard a rather gruffy voice call them, they instantly made up who was calling them. Like pesky teenagers who had just found out they were in trouble, they slowly turned around with fear, uncertainty and a face with “Busted:” written all over it. They were definitely in a heap of trouble.

“And who’s gonna clean up this mess?” Undertaker hoarsely asked as his guided his arm around the entire mess the room had become.

“Uhhh….. you will!” Michaels replied innocently before he darted out of the room.

Hunter looked at his friend’s face, and smirked back, “Have fun cleaning. Don’t wait up for us!” He added, winking and snapping his fingers before he too rushed out of the room, leaving a frustrated Undertaker and a still knocked out John Cena in the messy room. Undertaker let out a heavy sigh before taking off his hat and trenchcoat and proceeding to clean up the room.

A good forty five minutes or so later the room was sparkling clean, with the exception of Cena lying on the floor.

“Hn, talk about living up to his name.” Taker commented before he scanned the room one final time. One of Shawn’s bags had a very peculiar pocket opened, intrigue aroused him and since his bag was also searched mercilessly, Taker figured Shawn wouldn’t mind if he was to take a quick peek.

What he saw next in Shawn’s bag surprised him – a naked photo of Stephanie McMahon, Triple H’s wife. That surprised Taker very much, he never thought of him doing such a thing. He even let out a slight chuckle of disbelief at sight. he then quickly made up that Hunter must have left this photo in Shawn’s bag by accident or something. But an idea came in his mind as he smirked, Shawn was going to pay for ruining his bag, so was Triple H.

Taker casually strolled by Cena, and taking advantage of his state, he gently slipped the picture into Cena’s pocket. Like a thief in the dark. He then casually picked up his coat and hat before leaving the room with his signature smirk. He came across a mirror in the hallway and again shot a smirk at it

It was Taker all along…. He muttered at his reflection before he casually strolled off into the hallway, careful to leave the cameras open so he could see the aftermath of his little naughtiness.


End file.
